


Something Sinister in Site-14 Lurks

by Grandpas_Cheesebarn



Category: SCP - Containment Breach, SCP Foundation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Eventual Relationships, Gen, Gender-Ambiguous Reader, Horror, Humor, Mystery, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-27 10:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13878741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grandpas_Cheesebarn/pseuds/Grandpas_Cheesebarn
Summary: "Field Agent Jeff 'Oriole' Whitehill and Field Agent Sam 'Kestrel' Connell, report effectively immediately to Site-14 for debriefing, following excursion and subsequent containment of previously unknown anomalous artifact," Jeff read off, before looking up at you, "Site-14?"A routine debriefing turns into something darker, as the secret of Site-14 starts to unravel under the hands of Field Agents Whitehill and Connell. But sometimes its best to let sleeping dogs lie, least they tear you apart.





	1. Blink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are appreciated (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Down a dusty, crumbling road, a nondescript Jeep rumbled. The color was plain and the condition was fine, adding up to a completely unassuming and boring car. The kind of vehicle anybody might drive, not enough to spare a second glance. The interior was the same, slightly worn seats, tidy dashboard, nothing of interest, not even an air freshener. The occupants, despite looking clean-cut and normal, were a different story. The man in the passenger seat pulled out his phone, scrolling through secure emails.

"Field Agent Jeff 'Oriole' Whitehill and Field Agent Sam 'Kestrel' Connell, report effectively immediately to Site-14 for immediate debriefing, following excursion and subsequent containment of previously unknown anomalous artifact," The man read off, before looking up, "Sam, I know it gave us the location, but you're sure you're going the right way?"

"Positive," You affirmed, eyes sliding over the road, "Buddy of mine was transferred here a while ago. Started crying, since he hated cacti. And parks," You frowned briefly, "Think he was afraid of the color green, actually."

"Well, I for one am very excited about this location," Jeff decided, setting his phone away and glancing back out the window, "I've never been to this facility before."

"We've only ever been to Site-15," You reminded.

"All the more reason to be curious, then," Jeff smiled. He leaned back in his seat, drumming his fingers on his pants, "I hear they keep 049 in this one."

You barely shifted your eyes, grunting vaguely, "Hm?" 

"The doctor. Plague doctor. The one that kills people by touching them," Jeff explained, comically hovering his hand near your shoulder, "One touch, and bam!" He brought his hand down, "Dead."

You only blinked, before smiling almost imperceptibly, "Why, Agent Whitehill, how on Earth did you find that information? Were you, perhaps, snooping in Foundation resources?"

Jeff took his hand back as if stung, "Never!" Then, quieter, "I mean, not usually, at least. It's just, well, there's only so many times you can read the same book on a road trip before you decide to look around the library, you know?"

"At ease," You rolled your eyes, "I was just pushing your buttons. I'm sure there's not an agent out there that doesn't do that."

"Oh, right," Jeff laughed a little, "Wait, do you?"

"Hell no," You smiled, "After all, I've got a partner who does it for me."

"Ha ha," Jeff huffed, pushing up his glasses, "Next time, I just won't tell you about the cool stuff I found."

It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. But, the rest of the conversation was put on hold, as a large facility came into view on the horizon. Both occupants of the car settled down, setting their faces into neutral masks, before you carefully pulled the car forward to the checkpoint. 

"Identification?" A security guard stepped forward, staring impassively ahead. You pulled out the proper papers, handed them over. The guard glared incomprehensibly, before flipping through the files and entering in a few commands on his datapad. The computer behind him made a series of complex noises, before buzzing once, at which he nodded a single time. He looked back up.

"How long will you be here?" He asked. Your blank expression faltered in a moment of surprised confusion. No one had ever asked that question at a checkpoint before.

"A few days, at max, before we head back out," You smoothly replied. The guard grunted, nodded, before handing your identifications back and waving the car in.

"Since when do they ask how long we're staying?" You muttered, shoving the papers into the glove box.

"Maybe they're just weird at this facility," Jeff shrugged, popping the gum in his mouth.

"I never thought I'd miss Site-15," You grumbled. The car was soon quietly pulled into a parking area, just another generic vehicle amongst a hundred others. As you both got out, Jeff whistled.

"It's kind of dusty in here, innit?" He gestured at the other cars, while you took your ID papers back out and set them into an inner coat pocket.

"It's not that bad," You scoffed. Your scoff was invalidated a moment later when Jeff ran his finger over the window of another Jeep, leaving a line in the layered dust, "Oh. Huh."

"It's probably just the place where they store their operative vehicles, right?" Jeff attempted, though his eyes held a touch on uncertainty. You shrugged. The issue was put away, in the mental folder of 'things we will not think about once we leave', as was often the case with Foundation operations. More walking, before you both came across the elevator that would lead down into the facility itself. 

"Just a few days," You reminded, leaning against the wall as Jeff punched the correct buttons, "Then, we can go back to just being plain old suburban police officers," a brief pause, "Or paramedic, in your case."

"Sometimes the monotony is nice," Jeff smiled, blowing another tinted bubble, "The soccer moms don't usually try to cause an XK scenario."

"Maybe for you," You closed your eyes, "But if I have to respond to another call about bake-sale territory infringement, I'll personally designate them as SCPs and take them to Site-15."

Jeff made to say something more, but then the elevator doors slid open, and you both quickly regained your faces in. A series of visor-wearing guards stared hard, guns ready for any sort of altercation.

"Welcome to Site-14," The commander greeted, stepping forward, "Let me see your identification papers, and you'll be on your way to debriefing."

As you handed the papers over, and submitted yourselves to the rigorous scanning and verification, you noticed Jeff's nose crinkle minutely. The moment the guards had stepped away, Jeff shifted his head, angling towards you.

"They haven't showered in weeks," He murmured. Your eyebrows shifted upwards, and your carefully cultivated expression of professionalism cracked ever so slightly. 

The rest of the scan passed quickly, though your nose occasionally twitched. By the time it was over, you wanted nothing more than to scuttle away to a bathroom and shove an air freshener up your nostrils. Jeff seemed to share the sentiment.

"Agent Whitehill, we'll debrief you in the nearby office," The commander stated, gesturing, "Agent Connell, your debriefing will be on the other side of the facility. Just follow the signs until you get to Room 23."

Jeff's eyes flicked over to you, but neither of you said a word against it. 

"Of course, sir," You nodded, sparing Jeff a brief yet reassuring pat on the arm, and leaving the room. Following the directions of a few guards, you managed to make your way towards the designated area. The walk was monotonous, which was unsurprising, given that Jeff was gone. Rarely, you'd pass a guard or scientist, but eventually even that ceased, until you were alone entirely. Your few carefully whispered curses at the size of the base were left unheard, as you stalked down the desolate halls. 

"Fuck. Did I take a wrong turn?" You muttered, stealing a furtive around. No signs, no dice, just grey, sterile concrete, dim lighting overhead. You turned around, ready to go back and retrace your steps, only to pause. Very faintly, you could hear a cough. Not a loud sound, but in the silence of the corridor, it was deafening. You contemplated calling out to see who it was, but a strange feeling in your gut urged you not to. And considering your line of work, you decided to do as suggested, and instead creep silently towards the source. Careful steps brought you to a large blast door, rusted and decayed, and you frowned at the sight. The yellow informational sign didn't make the frown go away, either.

"SCP-049. Class: Euclid. Sentient and violent," You read, the lettering half torn away. A picture of a humanoid in plague doctor robes, piercing eyes, stared back. Your finger taped the image, glancing around, "Sentient and violent, huh? Wonder where all the guards are at."

You shouldn't be snooping, you knew, but curiosity tickled you, and so you decided to press your ear to the blast doors. Just for a moment. Soon, that moment turned into a minute, then five, and just as you decided that you were being ridiculous, you heard it again: the cough. It was wet and gross sounding, the kind that ended with lungs rattling, then terrible silence. You found yourself pulling back and looking around, wondering if you should report that to a researcher, then you realized that you were worrying about an SCP, of all things.

"Great, now I'm turning into Whitehill," You shook your head, walking back down the hall to where you came. But, not before pulling out your phone and texting your partner.

_Kestrel_ : Hey, are you out?

_Oriole_ : yah im good. it was weird though

_Kestrel_ : ?

_Oriole_ : they didn really ask me about the skip we found. kept asking about our experience. think they wanted to get rid of me

_Oriole_ : nervous too. twitchy. thats the last time I capture a skip in this sites territotye

_Kestrel_ : I just went past SCP-049's containment cell. No guards around at all, or scientists. Completely empty.

_Oriole_ : thats weird

_Kestrel_ : I heard this coughing coming from inside the chamber too. Sounded like the thing was sick, maybe. I feel like I should report that to a researcher.

_Oriole_ : ill check the docs an see what that could mean. maybe 049 just does that kinda thing

_Kestrel_ : Gotta go. Made it to the debriefing room. 

_Oriole_ : be safe!!

 

You slid your phone into your jacket, just as the debriefing room came into view. A blink, and your tense expression was tucked away, exchanged for the professionalism you strived for. The twin guards on either side of the door nodded at you, before letting you enter. The room itself was threadbare, with a table and chairs, but little else. A person slightly obscured by shadow sat in the chair farthest from you, flanked by more guards, along with some recording devices and a few other miscellaneous things. You took the empty seat.

"Agent Connell," The interviewer greeted, "Would you like something to drink?"

The offered water bottle was tempting, but you shook your head, "I'm fine. Thanks for the offer."

"Of course," The interviewer cleared her throat, "If you could, please explain exactly what happened regarding the anomalous artifact you encountered."

"Three days ago, Agent Whitehill and I ventured out to the town of Irving, Wyoming, in order to retrieve requested materials for our precinct. During that time, we received reports of strange activity in the town library. Sudden bursts of drowsiness, inability to concentrate, and an intense feeling of apprehension- should the sufferer remain in the location for long. Upon hearing this, Agent Whitehill and I decided to investigate," You recalled, stating each memory with efficiency and clarity. 

"Yes. It says here that at the time, you were unsure if the anomaly was hostile or not," The interviewer flipped a paper over, "And you still went to investigate?"

"Of course. Just because we're foundation agents doesn't mean we shouldn't try to defend the citizens as best we can," You affirmed. The interviewer smiled, which was odd, before scrawling something down and murmuring 'intense dedication'. You decided to continue.

"We entered the library at night to minimize potential casualties, should the recon go south. Initial results were fine, and so we pushed further in, until we narrowed down the origin of the events to a replica suit of medieval armor, located in the basement of the library. At approximately 0200 hours, Agent Whitehill made contact with the anomalous object. I noted–" You stopped as the interviewer gave you another smile, of varying tightness at the edges.

"You've been talking for a while. You should have a drink," She suggested, nudging the water bottle towards you again. You blinked.

"I'm fine. Thank you again," You cleared your throat awkwardly. The interviewer's smile only grew.

"Are you sure? Alright. Please, continue."

"Yes. I, uh, noted that the effects in the vicinity stopped once contact was made. We decided that the object was safe enough to radio in, as well as set up rudimentary containment procedures to ensure ease of transport. After that, we waited for the containment team to come over, at which the library was cordoned off on pretense of temporary power failure. The armor was retrieved and sent back for further investigation, at which we were informed to come to Site-14 for debriefing," You finished, absently straightening out your jacket.

"Commendable effort, Agent Connell," The interviewer jotted more notes down. She looked up, but something in her eyes made me lean back unconsciously, "I think you'd make an excellent addition to our team."

"What?" You managed, "I must have misheard you, ma'am."

"Hm. Tell me, how do you feel about the Foundation?" The interviewer asked. 

"I enjoy working here, and find the environment pleasant," You stated. Odd questions.

"You seem like the hard-working individual. Would you describe your partner as the same?"

"Agent Whitehill is one of the best men I know," You replied.

"Would you call yourself inquisitive?" The interviewer's pleasant smile was entirely gone, morphed into something just close enough to be unnerving. It was the eyes, really. Not warm, but not clinical either. Hungry, and not in the way of physical lust. You reached for the water out of instinct, just to give your hands something to do, but stopped. Like a hawk, the interviewer noticed instantly.

"Oh, please, have a drink. Don't mind me," She gestured. You shook your head.

"Force of habit, ma'am."

"I insist," The interviewer narrowed her eyes. Your entire body tensed, like a cobra, and you found that you didn't much like the feeling you were getting, like a rabbit in an open field.

"I drank some not too long ago. I'm fine," You repeated, a little bit more forceful. The smile drained off the interviewer's face. A beat of silence. 

"Agent Connell, I'm afraid we must conclude the interview here," The interviewer stated. She gathered her notes, "You're given authorization to stay a day or two to recuperate, before returning to your posting alongside Agent Whitehill. A room has been prepared for you, with directions sent to your account."

You shot up and out of your chair with slightly more power than intended, snapping a nod off, and a quick, "Thank you, ma'am," before hurrying for the door. 

"Oh, and Agent Connell? Be sure to stay hydrated," The interviewer stared directly at you, into you, and you could only managed a sharp affirmative as you backed out into the hall. The two guards at the door continued to glare at you, but it seemed more worrying than before. You pointedly walked down the hall at a normal pace, before slipping away into a bathroom and slamming the door shut. The sound of the lock was an immense comfort, and you whipped out your phone, putting your back to the door as you opened your secure messenger.

_Kestrel_ : Get down here.

_Kestrel_ : Now.

_Kestrel_ : [Current Location Status]

_Oriole_ : whats wrong?? 

_Oriole_ : im almost there. if youre in trouble, stay safe 

A knock at the door, followed by a very low bird call. You let out a relieved huff, before unlocking the door and hurrying Jeff in. He stared at you in confusion.

"What's wrong?" He asked. You locked the door and turned back.

"Don't drink the water here," You stated. Jeff blinked. He didn't even get time to ask why before you cut him off, "The interview. Tried to get me to drink the provided water. Almost forced me to. The interviewer was really intense about it."

"Maybe they just really care about your hydration?" Jeff attempted. You frowned.

"They didn't ask me about the skip, aside from the general encounter. Just general questions about me, and you as well. And the water thing, too."

"It was the same for mine, too, now that I think about it," Jeff tapped his chin, "But, without the water. Do you think there's something wrong?"

"I hope not. Maybe I'm just remembering it wrong. Either way, I'd feel safer if we didn't drink the water," You decided. Jeff shrugged.

"Okay, let's get the waters from the car later and bring those. And the MREs, too, since I imagine the food here uses the same water too."

"I'll see if I can email Site-15 about this, just to get their opinion on the matter," You pulled out your phone, already opening the emails, "When they say it's nothing, then I can feel like an idiot. But for now, I'd rather be safe than sorry."

The two of you exited the bathroom and made your way to the room, preparing to get some rest. A day, max, then you'd leave. At this rate, you even found yourself missing 079. At least he was predictable. Here, you weren't even sure if you could trust the water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oriole and Kestrel are pretty cool codenames, but maybe I just like bird codenames.  
> Site-14 isn't a real location, but I decided to play it light and loose for this one. Implied that the facility is located in, under, or around Yellowstone Park, or the Rocky Mountains.


	2. Breathe

The next day rolled around with relative ease, an uneventful night of rest, coupled with a morning of menial tasks and exercise. At least for you. At lunchtime, you made your way into the designated on-site cafeteria. The room was bustling with people, mostly guards and low-level researchers. As you scanned the area, you caught Jeff waving you over to a table near the back of the room. You drew closer, making out folders on the table, and an already opened MRE. Veggie burger, by the look of it.

"Sam!" He greeted. You plopped down in the open chair, taking out your own MRE, as Jeff slid over an unopened ration of water. You tore into your MRE, completing the necessary ritual of preparing the ration heater, while Jeff just ate his trash and watched.

"'S that chili mac?" He asked. You didn't bother looking up.

"Yeah."

"Gross," He twisted his face up, "Don't know how you can stand that."

The argument was a well-worn, comfortable one, and you returned fire without pause, "Says the guy who eats the veggie burger."

"It's not like there's many options for vegetarians, "Jeff sniffed, "Besides, I _like_ the veggie burger."

"And I'm sorry for you," You intoned solemnly. Jeff threw a wrapper at your head, and you laughed. By then your MRE was heated, and so you quickly began to consume the meal, while Jeff inhaled the remnants of his sad plant burger. 

"Hey," Jeff cleared his throat, "I had a headache when I woke up this morning. How about you?" 

You eyes narrowed, shifting around, "You know, I did, actually."

Jeff shrugged sheepishly, "It was weird, you know? I never get headaches. I mentioned it to one of the other agents when I was passing by, and he told me to stop by the infirmary," Jeff took a sip of water, "Said it was a common problem here. Something to do with the location, I guess."

Your eyebrows rose, "Did you?..."

"Nope," Jeff laughed a little, "I just used some of the aspirin in our supplies."

You let the air out of your lungs, relieved, "Yeah, same."

"Speaking of weird," Jeff set his water down, grabbing at a few of the folders and opening them up, "Look at this."

"It's...reports," You shifted through them, "For 079?" You looked back up.

"Not just 079, that one's just for reference. I was looking at 049's file and wanted to compare them. Did the same for the other skips at this site that I could get my hands on, too."

You leafed through the sizable packet on 079, skimming the information. Nothing you both didn't already know, pages upon pages of descriptions, observations, and conversations. When you set the folder back down, Jeff handed you a different one. You flipped open the front, only to see a large photo of 049 staring back. Colorized, this time. He had brown eyes, you noticed.

"Read it," Jeff urged, glancing around nervously to make sure you both weren't being watched. You obliged, diving into the text, immediately noticing the problems. You read through the entire document, just to confirm, but...

"This, there's no way this was written by a scientist," You frowned, turning the page over, "And there's only two pages here. Did you lose the others?"

"That's just it: that's the official document, and there's only two pages," Jeff splayed his hands in exasperation, "I searched everywhere! There's only the official documentation, and a single interview."

Your frown deepened, "One interview?"

"That's the only one like that, too," Jeff opened up another folder, filled with miscellaneous anomalous entities, each varying in length and description, "Only 049." 

You took a drink from your water bottle, give your hands something to do, steady yourself.  
"What."

Jeff hastily grabbed at the papers that suddenly flew into the air, the table shaking slightly from your fists. You blinked, sitting back down. If the attention wasn't on you before, it was now.

"Sorry," You apologized without any remorse. Jeff glanced mournfully at the crackers that had fallen to the floor, before shaking his head.

"Did you ever get a response back from Site-15?" Jeff asked, shuffling all the folders together again. You pulled out your phone and furrowed your brow.

"It didn't send."

"Oh?" Jeff tilted his head, "Bad connection?"

"One coincidence, I could accept. Twice is pushing it. But five times?" You rumbled, "Something's wrong here."

The previously friendly room seemed hostile, as the realization sunk in. In fact it seemed as if the crowd was closing in on you both– wait, no, that was actually happening.

"Hey there," the nearest man greeted. His uniform name read 'Richard Taylor', and he came up to the table with the sort of swagger of a man with too much confidence and too little skill, "Heard you guys gossiping. Mind if I join in?"

Yes, you did mind, but what you said instead was, "Not at all. We're here for a little rest, before we return for Site-15, and we were comparing our skips," not technically a lie.

Richard smiled and sat down, and the rest of the hovering crowd dispersed, thought not without keeping eyes on you both. 

"Which one do you guys have over there?" Richard asked, too-white teeth and false sincerity.

"079," You informed. Jeff shifted.

"I heard you guys have a big one too, 049?" Jeff prodded. A cold flash swiftly crossed Richard's face. 

"Oh, that. Yeah, containing it is tough. It can kill with a single touch, you know. Real nasty. Horrible. It can make these zombies, you know," Richard rambled, before cutting off with a sudden, sharp laugh, "But, you don't want to hear about that one. How about 471?"

You and Jeff shared a look.

"I need to use the bathroom!" Jeff announced, standing abruptly up from the table and leaving the room. Richard didn't seem to care, telling you about the other anomalous entities. Pointedly avoiding 049. Offering you some gum, which was declined. About five minutes passed, before you stood up as well, though with considerably more ease.

"I'll be right back," You assured, "I just need to use the bathroom."

You felt eyes burning the back of your neck as you left the cafeteria. Down the hall you went, until you were out of sight, before sprinting towards the nearest janitor's closet. Once there, you quickly knocked on the door thrice, and made a quiet imitation bird call. Jeff sprang out.

"Where are we going?" He asked. You pointed down the corridor.

"049's containment chamber."

"We'd better hurry," Jeff glanced behind you both, "There's no telling when that guy will realize we duped him."

"Right."

Jeff and you hurried down the halls, steps in sync, the occasional light overhead, not a single guard or scientist to be seen. There were cameras, but none in the areas that mattered, easily avoidable. Soon, the walls started to break down, and the floor was littered with decay. It was clear no one came down this way, and it was mostly abandoned, though with purpose. 

"You got the recording device?" You asked Jeff. He tapped once on the equipment, held safely in his hand, the smallest green light the only evidence of filming.

"There, up ahead," You pointed, picking out the rusted blast doors after a moment. Jeff squinted.

"This entire area is kind of..."

"Shitty," You supplied.

"Yeah. This is weird. Foundation always keeps up with repairs," A pause, "Especially for areas that contain SCPs."

"Come on," You growled, "I can see the security room."

You both hurried over to the door, the hinges groaning with effort as you stepped in. Without any lights, the room was nearly entirely dark, cloaked in shades of black and grey. Jeff pulled out a flashlight, not willing to risk turning on the main lighting. The single beam of light shone throughout the small space, reflecting off dust motes suspended in the air, illuminating scattered papers and destroyed equipment.

"Dusty, old, and musty," Jeff sighed, "Just like the car garage. No ones been in here for a while."

Your hand brushed over the decaying metal desk, disturbing clouds of dust and picking up a disintegrating document. SCP-049. You could make out the words, but not enough, and you almost set it back down when you realized there were more documents still on the desk surface. Continuations of the initial 049 research. What little you could read was entirely different from what Jeff had found, so you quickly scooped the rest of the papers up and stuffed them into the bag, before making your way over to the computers at the back of the room.

"Jeff, come here," You ushered, "I think these still work. Seems like cameras into the cell."

"Ooh, let me try," Jeff hurried over, handing you the recording device as he began to fiddle with the controls and made adjustments, "Right. Looks like there's audio, too. I'll flip that on first, then work on the display."

A click, and the speakers burbled to life, the faint hiss of static accompanying them. At first, there was nothing. Then, the quiet, pitiful sound of a cough. You straightened up and stared at the computer display, as if that would reveal anything. The cough continued undaunted.

"Jeff, ETA on that display?" You asked. Jeff mumbled something around some wires, but another wet cough stole your attention away. Weak sounds. If they were being made by 049, the very small, humane part of your brain urged you to do something. Even if he was an SCP. 

"Got it!" Jeff stated. The screen fizzled on, and you leaned in, eyes wide. The room shown was dark, empty of even the faintest of light sources. You could see a figure huddled in the corner, curled up on itself.

"Holy shit. There he is," You whispered. A small voice buzzed at the back of your skull, and ancient survival instinct going off at the sight of the containment cell, but you ignored it, "Can you zoom in?"

"Yeah," Jeff nodded, reaching around to the side of the computer case and fiddling with some wires, "There. That should work."

The camera zoomed inwards. 049 sat in a corner, robes folded in on himself, his eyes dull in comparison to the photographs you'd seen. Another uncomfortable cough came from him, shaking his whole body, tightening his arms around himself. Your stomach churned, the survival instinct blaring in your head once more. Jeff moved the camera around the rest of the chamber, but it only got worse. Refuse. Decay. Nothing was clean, and you could only imagine the smell.

"I can see some writing on the wall over there," Jeff squinted at the screen, "I can't read it though. It's just the same set of symbols over and over."

You leaned back in to stare at what he was pointing to, and the vague uncertainty suddenly crystallized into fear. "I can," You replied. It didn't matter that the words were written in dried blood. It didn't matter that they were repeated across the entire surface, or even that they were occasionally carved with some surgical tool. 

"What's it say, then?" Jeff could sense the chill that disturbed you, but didn't understand yet. 

You didn't dare take your eyes off the screen, " _They are hungry_."

"What does that mean?" Jeff frowned, turning to you, "Some kind of code?"

"It means we have to get out of here. Right now," You stepped back, grabbing Jeff's arm carefully. He protested initially, but stopped as soon as he saw how shaken you were. Hardly anything made you unsettled, but you were. You cast one last glance back at the computer display, at 049 as he remained alone and forgotten, before rushing out. Down the halls you ran, Jeff beside you. Once you felt you were far enough away, you slowed down. A breath of silence. 

"My family had a legend they'd tell me as a child," You explained, creeping around a corner, "About hungry beasts that would take over the mind."

More cameras, more guards, you were getting closer to the main area again, but Jeff only stared with baited breath, listening in as you continued, "The monsters were always hungry. They ate memories, but they always wanted more. They'd try to get you to let them in, they'd offer you things you'd need, but if you accepted what they gave, then it was over."

"That's just a story though," Jeff attempted, "Maybe it's something different. Maybe 049 just did it for something else."

You rose an eyebrow. 

"Okay. So you think we're dealing with...memory eating anomalous entities, sentient and violent, with the entire facility as their local."

"This is the Foundation we're talking about," You offered. 

"Hm. Sometimes I wish I would've stayed a normal paramedic," Jeff sighed, before a spark of his usual flair returned, "But, then I'd miss out on all your fun adventures. Right, what's the plan?"

"We go to the site director–"

Jeff stopped you, "Bad plan."

"What's your plan, then?" You rolled your eyes.

Which was how you ended up outside the office of the head researcher in charge of SCP-049, Jeff's recording device hidden partially in his jacket, barely visible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little tongue-in-cheek approach to the problem that many early SCPs faced, being the writing not aging well in comparison to the modern SCPs. Well, instead of rewriting the article, why not see where we can go based off of the writing quality? Mysterious and exciting


	3. Think

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't very sunglasses emoji of you

[... Which was how you ended up outside the office of the head researcher in charge of SCP-049, Jeff's recording device hidden partially in his jacket, barely visible...]

 

"This is insane," You quietly growled, without any real venom, and Jeff's eyes crinkled around the edges.

"That means it's working," Came his whispered reply. 

The door slid open, and you both walked inside. The office was minimally furnished, not even a picture frame on the desk. Only a name tag, laminated, etched letters stating Dr. Fallow. The man in question sat at his desk, looking up from his computer as you both walked in. He set down his water, putting away a bottle of aspirin. 

"Agents. I heard you had something to discuss?" Dr. Fallow inquired, gesturing to the two open seats. You both sat down. 

"Would you like something to drink?" Dr. Fallow offered, tilting his head to the water, "Or, perhaps, something to eat?" Which was a little more odd. You both politely declined. 

"We just wanted to ask something the heavy containment protocols here," Jeff smiled, all exuberance and charisma. As if a foil to his character, you were sterner, quiet in your seat as you examined the room for anything out of place. 

"I'm sorry, I don't believe you have the proper..." Dr. Fallow cut off, as Jeff rose both hands.

"I don't mean it in any official manner. I know you're a busy person, but we just wanted to hear it from you first. We've always been interested in the research behind these things," Jeff nudged you. You nodded absently, focusing instead on the water bottle to your left, while Jeff continued, "It's fascinating, especially compared to 079, you know?" 

"Oh. Well, I uh, I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I told you a little," Dr. Fallow conceded, though his smile was a little more genuine. While he ducked under the desk for some documents, you swiped the water bottle, placing it in Jeff's bag.

"Ahm. Here at Site-14, we house a variety of Safe and Euclid class anomalous entities," The scientist began, "Which means our heavy containment procedures are more stringent than usual. Rotating shift guards, security cameras, along with Tesla gates and advanced safety equipment."

"Of course. With entities like 471, you have to be cautious. Especially when it comes to 049," Jeff added. The scientist's formal demeanor faltered at the name.

"Y-yes, of course. 049," Dr. Fallow cleared his throat, "Very deadly. Cruel beyond measure, undoubtably. We would petition for Keter class, but unfortunately, we haven't had the time," He confessed, "Thankfully, our containment procedures are still top of the line, so we don't need to worry about it breaching anytime soon."

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, stubborn and firm, "Are you sure?"

Dr. Fallow took the challenge with surprising grace, "Due to SCP-049's recently failing health, we've begun to cut back on guard patrols in that area. It seems that it will be expiring of natural causes, despite our best efforts."

Jeff smoothly stepped back in, "But who would miss a Keter-class like that?" 

The researcher laughed a little, nasally, "Indeed. However, it looks like it's time for us to cut this short. I have a meeting in light containment I have to attend."

Jeff stood up, shaking hands with the man, smiling gamely, "Thank you so much for your time!" Jeff's other hand was on your sleeve, stopping you from looming over the scrawny scientist. You managed to wrangle your face back into professional, and shook the offered hand as well. You never liked the higher level scientists. 

Jeff's cheerful smile vanished the moment you both were out of the room and down the hall, replaced by a more natural expression. He stopped the recording device.

"And...done. That should be enough evidence for Site-15," He relaxed his posture, "Did you grab some samples?"

"I grabbed a bottle of water. Let's get back to the room and see what a few tests reveal," You nodded. With that, you both made your way back down the hall, plan in mind. The researcher watched, half hidden behind a corner, impassive. 

A few hours passed, punctuated only by growing frustrations. 

"Nothing. What do you mean there's nothing?" Jeff demanded, shaking the test results vigorously. They stayed the same, despite his desires.

"You checked the cafeteria food?" You asked, lazily finishing another round of push-ups. 

"I checked them earlier," Jeff stated miserly. You contemplated patting his shoulder, but considering how sweaty you were, decided against it.

"So, it's nothing to do with the stuff itself," You ventured, opening one of your water rations nonetheless, "But something related to them."

"I know, I know. I just had to make sure," Jeff crumbled the useless papers up, tossing them into the basket with an overhand throw. 

"They're like vampires, Whitehill. But instead of letting them into your house, you let them into your soul. Food, water, love. If they offer it to you, and you accept..." You trailed off, taking a sip.

"Well, vampires aren't real," Jeff pointed out, "And if the Foundation investigated every myth and legend, there'd be no time to go after the real stuff."

"True," You shrugged, "But it's important to be ready anyway."

Jeff made a noise of agreement, before going back to the desk, sitting down in the chair and spinning it once, and expression of deep thought, "So. We've ruled out what it isn't. 'S not natural. But, what is it?"

"Hey," You picked the SCP document up from his bag, pressing it against his face, "Maybe you should give this a look, instead of running around in circles."

Jeff scrambled to remove the paper from his face, scowling, only to blink as he realized what the documents were, "This is the original documentation for SCP-049."

"Mhm."

Jeff sped through the information, voracious, not even stopping when you sat down beside him and took out some of his ridiculous caffeine gum. You blew bubbles while you waited. Eventually, Jeff yanked out a folder, pulling the new papers on 049 onto the desktop. He compared the two with baited breath, then paused.

"It all comes back to 049," He realized. Carefully, he slid the papers over to you, finger poised as he pointed certain things out, "There's changes in the documents. The interview in the second one? It doesn't exist," Jeff flipped through the first packet, "There's chemical analysis of the substances he uses on his patients, breakdown of the events that lead to his acquisition, and, importantly, that he was 'very polite' and 'cooperative'."

You cracked your gum, narrowed your eyes, "Doesn't sound anything like the skip everyone describes now."

"The second set was submitted about a month and a half after 049 was contained," Jeff popped a stick of gum in his mouth as well, "So, realistically, either 049 brought something with him that unintentionally caused this, or it was a different artifact they brought after."

"...Check the first document again."

Jeff and you scanned the documents, comparing them to one another, until you pointed something out.

"Curing people. In the first one, it heals them. His touch isn't deadly. His surgeries don't make zombies," You flicked your head to the second set of papers, "He's still about curing people, but it's different in this one. He kills them. There's zombies involved."

"Kind of unoriginal," Jeff murmured, "Considering 008."

"What if that's just it?" You blinked, "The people he cures. They're still cured, that doesn't change. But the memory eaters, Jeff, 049 cures them away. They're a disease too, and he gets rid of them. Jeff, the reason why they're hostile to 049, they're afraid of him."

"Agent Connell," Jeff began, voice deep and serious, "That...is actually a really good theory."

"The location they first found 049 in," You picked up the first document, "That's how he knew what the memory eaters were. _They are hungry_."

Jeff slowly laid his head down on the table. Then, with a deep breath, he exhaled and exclaimed, "It makes so much sense."

After Jeff got it all out of his system, he inhaled. 

"Let me bundle all this info together," He stated, "Then, I'll try to send it off tonight."

"I'll send it out," You corrected firmly, "You need sleep."

"But..." Jeff wiggled around, before groaning, "Fine, fine. Just make sure you have a signal when you send it all. Then we can leave in the morning, and come back with MTF."

"Good plan," You nodded. A glance at the nearby clock made your eyes widen slightly, "But we'd better get some rest now, or we won't have any. Big day ahead of us."

You both turned in for the night with minimal fussing, your own alarm set to alert you, and the documents primed. You allowed yourself to relax: it'd all be over soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most people: zombies are scary  
> Foundation agents: zombies are so cliche


	4. Flinch

Your sleep was troubled, filled with barely remembered songs, and images from the days prior. A wet cough. Brown eyes. Cloying smiles, hungry, _they are hungry_. 

You awoke suddenly, drenched in sweat, partially formed alarm caught in your throat. By the time you'd managed to calm yourself down, all traces of sleep eluded you. 

"Hm," Was all you said as you slid out of bed, glancing to the alarm. It would be going off soon anyway. You threw on a pair of joggers and laced up your boots, quickly shimmying on a jacket with a few knives concealed inside. From there, you grabbed the device Jeff had told you about, and made for the door. A brief pause, where you turned to look back at your sleeping partner. The urge to say goodbye crossed your mind, but you shook your head, and closed the door. You'd be back soon. 

Down the hall you carefully crept, making sure to avoid any night patrol guards or security cameras. The signal on the device grew stronger, until finally you stopped, setting it down to let it work. A few minutes passed. The red light flickered to green, data transfer complete, and you finally allowed yourself to smile.

Which was of course the instant that an arm closed around your throat, trying to force you into unconsciousness. Nearly instantly, your training flared to life, causing you to slam your head back, earning you the satisfying sound of a sickening crunch. 

"My nose!" A man exclaimed. You whirled around, kicking the device into a corner and pulling out one of your many knives. Four people in security uniforms. Two small firearms, tasers, batons. Minimal armor. One charged you, baton out, and you dodged, bringing your elbow up and under his chin. The exposed bottom of the helmet meant the hit connected, and he stumbled back. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" You demanded, wishing you'd brought your phone.

"You're coming with us, Agent Connell," one of them stated, and judging by the ominous crackle of electricity on the baton, it was not a request. With bared teeth, you pushed yourself off the wall, tackling the one closest to you and pushing her towards her partner. Another came up behind you, swinging his electrified baton. You blocked it at the base, a brief contest of strength, before releasing and letting the man stumble forward. You twisted around, getting a clear shot at an exposed neck and preparing to dive forward. But, you stopped yourself. These were innocent people, despite their hostility. You couldn't kill them. You dropped left instead, scrambling gracelessly across the floor. 

"Safeties off!" One guard shouted, followed by a click, and the color drained from your face. While you had reservations about killing, it didn't seem like the unwell guards shared your morality. With the pistol raised in your direction, you threw your knife forward, aiming for the leg. To subdue, not to kill. Your aim was true, and the guard collapsed in a mixture of shock and agony. But where he had fallen, three angry guards remained.

"Throwing a flash bang grenade," One informed, and you barley had time to shield your eyes, before it went off. True to the name, however, while your vision was safe from the flash, your ears suffered. Everything was reduced to a ringing, empty sound. Your survival instincts exploded, leaving you to act in spasm of panic. As you kicked a guard in the chest, and punched another, you missed the third guard behind you. The one with the other gun, actually. The ringing in your ears subsided, replaced by your roars and curses, as you lay collapsed on the ground, gripping your leg to try and stem the blood. 

"Lights out," The guard nearest to you stated, followed by a brief stinging sensations. Numbness slowly overtook you. You slumped over onto the floor entirely, and briefly wondered how Jeff was doing. 

When you woke up, the first thing that greeted you was a harsh light, and a persistent pain. That wasn't to say that a gunshot wasn't painful, it was just...low on your priority list. 

"Agent Connell," A smooth voice drew you out of unconsciousness. You tugged your arms, finding yourself bound to a chair.

"Fuck you," Was what you attempted to say, but considering how dry your throat was, it came out more as, "Fuuhhh."

"So hostile," The voice chided. Your eyes adjusted enough to make them out, white lab coat, but little else. Two guards stood on opposite sides of the room, "Why don't we settle this dispute over some tea? I personally prefer mint."

"No," You spat, "What's your plan? Why am I here?"

The scientist sighed, "We just want you to see things our way, you know," a pause, "We know you've been snooping around. Looking at...that creature. 049."

"He's twice the person you'll ever be!"

"How charming," The scientist drawled, " _It_ is a blight on the landscape. Once it dies, everyone will be safer for it."

"Only you," You grunted. 

"Don't be petulant, we only want to help you," The scientist reprimanded, "We've seen your records, Agent. You're dedicated, loyal, and steadfast," a smile, "Rare qualities, in an agent."

"You want slaves," You lifted your head, stubborn, "It won't work on me. I know what you are," You pressed forward, but didn't go farther than an inch, "Memory eaters."

"Look at you, figuring things out. How long did that one take you?" You could hear the scientist's smile, and it only made you frown more, "Oh, we're only teasing." 

You snorted. The scientist continued.

"You're smart. Not in the way of most scientists, of course, but that's not the kind of intelligence we want right now. We need intuition," The scientist stepped forward, "We need you."

Their words were sweet, but hid a deadly poison, " _Tá siad ocras_ ," You muttered, a reminder. They are hungry. 

"Fine. I can see you won't be persuaded by that. That's alright. It was moronic for me to even suggest those kinds of things to a person like you," The scientist nodded and shrugged, all the correct movements without any of the naturalness or ease, "The others? Simple. Easy. But no, you're better than that. You don't want achievement for the sake of it, you want to earn it." 

You tugged lightly at the bonds binding you to the chair, but otherwise were silent. 

"But there's always been something you couldn't earn. Couldn't get, no matter how hard you tried," The scientist stated solemnly, "A companion. Someone that loved you. Romantic love."

Your mouth twisted, trying not to smile at the absurdity. They must have interpreted it as a grimace.

"I'm sure Agent Whitehill would be pleased with the arrangement–" The scientist acted as though they were reaching for their trump card. You cut them off with a barking laugh.

"You really don't know anything, do you? You really think that's what I care about?"

"Well, I–"

"He's gay, you idiot," You grinned, "Pretend to know everything all you'd like, but it won't work. You don't know anything about anyone, especially not me."

"Agent–"

You leaned forward, "Your move, you miserable fuckin' monsters!"

" _Enough_!" The scientist shouted. There was the sound of displaced air, before a fist connected with the side of your face, sending your neck snapping back. The guard pulled his hand back, but you could already feel your nose beginning to bleed.

"Agent Connell," The voice soothed, "You know we don't mean to hurt you, right?"

The scientist took another step ahead as you remained silent, "We care about you, you know. It's just our way of making you realize that," their hand reached out to the side of your face, "Please. There's no need to struggle. We only want what's best for you."

The fingers were almost soothing, and a part of you wanted to give in. It would be easy. But, you were raised a fighter, and a fighter you would die. You snapped your head to the side, sinking your teeth into their hand. The scientist squealed in fear, trying to dislodge you, but it took the harsh yank of the security guards to make you release. Blood poured from the wound, and the scientist panted, staring at you.

"You filthy little animal!" They roared, "Guards!"

At the word, both guards descended on you. You couldn't even defend yourself, as they kicked and punched, throttled and bruised. You didn't give them the satisfaction of any noise, despite the pain. 

"Stop," the scientist commanded. A beat of silence, with your wheezing breath, "Take them to 049's chambers."

Whatever was binding your hands was removed, and you tumbled to the floor, hacking up blood onto the white tiles. Your leg still throbbed, the gunshot fresh, though bandaged in your rest. The guards paid your troubles no mind as they hauled you roughly to your feet. 

"Since you're so eager to defy us, I suppose we'll have to bring in your partner next," The scientist stated, tone brief and clipped. You gathered your strength again, another weak lunge forward.

"No!" You roared, trying to break out, "You fucking monsters, you leave him out of this!"

"Too late," The ghost of a smile, "Goodbye, Agent Connell. Enjoy your time with 049, however brief it will be."

You thrashed, but the guard grip was steel, and you were exhausted. By the time they'd dragged you to 049's nearby containment cell, you could barely stand. They roughly hauled you across the concrete, before opening the door. The smell assaulted you first, just as awful as you'd imagined. What little light spilled in from the halls illuminated the room, revealing it to be condemned with filth, and near the blast doors, you could see other corpses in various stages of decay. Some looked like other Field Agents too. Your stomach lurched, and the guards threw you inside, letting you slam into the floor without care. A moment later, the door was closed, returning the room into a tomb of darkness once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tá siad ocras, tá siad ocras,  
> Tháinig siad as an féar,  
> Ghoid siad ár ngrá,  
> Tá siad ocras, tá siad ocras."
> 
> Translation: They are hungry, they are hungry. They came from the grassy lands, they took our love. They are hungry, they are hungry."


	5. Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm going to break you into four equal pieces like a fuckin' Kit Kat."

You laid there, for a spell, just coughing and rattling your lungs, testing out the threshold of your pain. Your eyes acclimated slowly, the absolute void of light. But yet, the smell was still overpowering. Probably because you'd been thrown next to the corpses. You made a sound that distinctly wasn't a choked whimper, as you used your waning strength to drag yourself away. When you stopped, you didn't expect to hear the sound of movement. It occurred to you that you weren't alone in the containment chamber: 049 was with you as well. And suddenly, you hoped very, very desperately that he wasn't like what they'd said. 

"Hello?" He asked, voice quiet and slightly accented. You tried to smother your panic, but it was a futile effort, considering that agony clouded most of your senses. You backpedaled as best you could, but it wasn't much, and soon he was looming over you, dark robes making him nearly blend in with the shadows. He reached out a hand and crouched down, the fingers inching towards your throat, and your panic flared brightly. That is, until he actually touched you. The sensation was gentle, a small comfort, his fingers on your pulse.

"You're alive?" 049 whispered, before reaching out again, placing his arms under you and carefully hauling you off the floor. You would've protested the treatment on any other day, but your sense of pride didn't extend to situations in which you were almost dead. 049 then brought you over to the single table in the room, setting you down hastily before another set of coughs surged through him.

"My apologies. Give me a moment to gather my supplies. Please, hold on just a little longer," 049 pleaded, before rummaging around inside his cloak. You found yourself focusing on his eyes. The mask was strange, but his eyes almost glowed, faint even in crushing darkness. 

"Jeff," You muttered, blinking. You worried he wouldn't be okay. But, he had always been the smarter of you. Perhaps he was already out, driving to Site-15. 

"Do not strain yourself," 049 urged, before placing a needle above your arm, "This is a pain reliever. I will inject it, before tending to your other wounds," His voice was calm, reassuring even. He informed you of each action he took, as he slid the needle into your skin, bandaged wounds, even cleaned up the blood on your throat. His touch was incredibly gentle, and his gaze was warm, like a summer's day. Or maybe that was the pain killer talking. 

"I think you're pretty," You blurted out, right as he was finishing up near your ribs. He blinked, then looked at you.

"Thank you," He seemed to smile, before resuming his stitching, an amused lit to his tone, "I confess, I do not get many visitors here. None that are alive, at least. And certainly none so earnest." 

You should have been thinking about a hundred other things, but all of could focus on was the fact that you were fairly certain he'd just complimented you. He finished up the stitches, bandaging one final time, before using a somewhat dirty rag to wipe his hands off. By then, the pain relievers had worn off, and you were left feeling sluggish, movements cautious and slow. Your mind was keen, however, and as he helped you sit up on the table, you began to speak. 

"How long have you been here?" You asked, as 049 began to put away his supplies. If the question caught him by surprise, he didn't show it. 

"Years, maybe. Time loses meaning here, especially when you're locked away and forgotten," He replied, "But, if you don't mind, how did you get here?" 

With hunched shoulders, you found that your face twisted into a bitter frown, "I wasn't strong enough to beat them, and wasn't compliant enough to bend, so they threw me in here to die."

049 glanced over to the pile of corpses in the corner, near the door, bloated and rotting away, "...That has happened more often than you'd think. I'm sorry."

You looked over as well. Some of the more preserved corpses had ribs visible, gaunt cheeks and stitches. You pressed your hand to your wounded side, "How did they die?" 

"Some were dead when they arrived here, shot. Others were gravely injured, beyond my care. The least fortunate were the ones I could save," Suddenly, the skeletal figures made sense, "They, inevitably, starved." 

Your silence spoke more than any words would, and 049 sighed as he finished his packing.

"And so will you, I am afraid. I'm sorry."

"Why save me at all then?" You managed, some unknowable feeling twisting in your throat. 

"I'm a doctor," 049 seemed to furrow his brow, the statement set in stone, "I couldn't just let you die," a small pause, and after some deliberation, "And I admit, selfishly, that the company is...welcome, however brief it is. Your company, especially."

You should have felt some form of anger, a roiling rage in your gut that he'd saved you and doomed you to such a slow death. Locked in a cage, while Jeff was subjected to who knew what. Helpless. But all you could muster was a slightly deprecating laugh, "Well, I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for the Foundation. Though," You chewed on your lip, "I didn't think it would be starvation that got me."

What you didn't expect 049 to do was let out a rich, melodic laugh. He stopped it suddenly, as if chagrined at his lapse, "Forgive me, that was inappropriate."

"No, it's fine," You smiled, "It is a little ridiculous."

A tap on the blast door broke the silence, and you both tensed, your hands flying into your jacket to grip your knives. A few minutes passed, nothing come of the noise, but the tension remained. 049 stood beside you, staring at the doors.

"The memory eaters. They're here," You whispered, " _They are hungry_."

049 carefully stepped in front of you, to the wall with the very words engraved, "Tá siad ocras."

You closed your eyes, "Earlier, I saw an access panel near the door. I can probably pry the cover off and try to wire something," You exhaled, determination fixing your face with a grim set.

"Better to die standing, than live on your knees," 049 murmured, stepping back. You smiled, almost ready to quip back, but–

_BANG_

You never got the chance. The doors were thrown open, at a surprising speed given the rusted mechanisms. The sudden light nearly blinded you, a sharp contrast to the darkness you'd grown used to. Two figures. Armored. A chill shot down your spine as you realized and remembered that Jeff and you hadn't shut off the containment chamber cameras, or the audio. 

"I can see them! Open fire!" The nearest figured commanded. You felt your breath stop, you hands already closing around your knives, but not fast enough. One fired the gun in their hands, the sound of electricity as a line shot out. 049 suddenly stepped in front of you and the shot connected, and the buzz of tasers fired up. 049 convulsed, sporadic and random with the electric pain. The other figure made to fire at you, but you'd already leapt off the table, launching a knife at the closest one. One fell, and in lacking any other knives, you tackled the other guard, sending the taser to the ground. A sharp punch knocked the helmet off, revealing Richard Taylor. You blinked.

"What the fuck, Richard?" You demanded. Richard's only reply was a wordless shriek of rage, as he tried to throw you off. Nothing came of it, except that you knocked him out with a jab. Silence reigned, a terrible lack of noise. You could feel all of your wounds pulsing in tandem, and your lungs crying out in pain. You wanted nothing more than to fall asleep where you sat, but you didn't.

"049?" You called, turning around. He didn't respond, an unmoving figure on the ground, "Fuck."

You scrambled towards him, as fast as you could given the suddenly explosive agony that your injuries provided. By the time you'd managed to reach him, it took all of your power not to collapse next to him. Instead, you carefully reached out, gracelessly shoving him into a recovery position. He was breathing, though it was shallow and faint. His eyes were closed, and you couldn't check his pupils for sign of concussion. 

"Fuck," You cursed again. Desperately, you wished Jeff was with you. He was the paramedic, after all. Had you more time, you would've cursed some more, but time was a valuable commodity you couldn't afford to waste, and so you hastily placed your arms under 049 and picked him up. He was fairly heavy, and given your wounds, it wasn't something you would've attempted under other circumstances. However, you were a muscled individual, and the situation was dire, so you sucked it up and stood. Each step only increased your pain, but each time you simply endured. 

"Find Jeff," You reminded yourself, exiting the containment chamber, "Then leave."

You weren't even sure where Jeff would be. Had they been bluffing whey they said they had him? Was he still sleeping? Was he even at Site-14 anymore? Your questions were put on hold when two more guards came from the end of the hall. With guns.

"There they are!" One shouted. You prepared to perform some ridiculous and possibly dangerous dodge maneuver, when two gunshots rang out. You grit your teeth, and steeled yourself for the hits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I named him Richard just for that reference


	6. Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam-a-lamb, Sammy, Sam, Sand. When you were young, the other kids made fun of you and called you Sandwich

You blinked, wondering why you weren't feeling more pain. That is, until Jeff appeared.

"Sam, you're okay!" Jeff exclaimed, lowering his pistol and sprinting towards you. The reunion hug was nice, but hindered by the SCP in your arms. Jeff pulled back, babbling, "When I saw you were gone, and you didn't come back, I thought you were dead, or–"

Your relieved smile strained slightly, "Jeff," you cut in, "I'm really glad that you care, but if I don't get some help carrying 049, I might actually die."

Jeff nodded hastily, taking 049 from you and giving you his gun in return. With the pistol in your hands, you felt much safer. 

"Is he going to be okay?" You asked, glancing worried at the plague doctor. Jeff checked a few things, medical actions that eluded you, before nodding.

"He's just knocked out, he should be fine."

"You sure you've got him?" You asked.

Jeff made some complex noise, which somehow conveyed a shoulder shrug and hand gesture without any of the motion, "I've got him. Come on, we have to get out of here."

You both hurried down the halls, tactically avoiding swarms of guards and other personnel.

"So, why are we taking the skip with us exactly?" Jeff inquired, shifting the unconscious SCP in his arms. You chewed on the inside of your cheek.

"He's the key to fixing all of this," You stated, "And, I couldn't just let him die," you tacked on, crossing your arms in slightly embarrassment at the emotional reasoning.

Nonetheless, Jeff's lips twitched upwards at the corners, "Ah. I see."

"You're not going to be seeing anything in a few seconds if you finish that thought," You growled. Jeff laughed, pleased and happy, while you flushed and grumbled.

Finally, you made it to the elevator, stepping in with synchronized sighs of relief. That all changed, unfortunately, as soon as the elevator stopped. Silence fell.

"Fuck," You blinked, before slamming your fist into the elevator doors, "Shit!"

Jeff carefully set 049's unconscious form down onto the ground, walking over to the elevator control panel and taking the cover off. A few minutes of fruitless fiddling passed.

"They've cut it on from downstairs," Jeff frowned, blinking, "I could try to wire it, but I'm not sure if it would work."

"We don't have that kind of time," You eyed the emergency exit hatch above you, "Let me try something."

You shucked the covering off of the exit, scrambling and pulling yourself up and out. Only a few feet above, you could see another set of elevator doors. The push bar was visible, and you bent back down, extending your arms to Jeff. 

"Come on," You urged. Jeff nodded, handing you 049, before grabbing your offered hands and being hauled up. With you and Jeff's combined strength, you shoved the push bar, forcing the elevator doors open, the scene of an empty, dusted parking garage. You jumped up to the ledge, before completing the process again, and Jeff took 049 into his arms, stepping up and out with your aid. 

"A little off course," Jeff murmured, before brightening, "But, that isn't any trouble. Come on."

"How are you moving so fast?" You muttered, "Alright, I'm coming, wait up."

The parking garage was resolutely empty, abandoned and forgotten, coated with dust. The air was stagnant, and the shadows were illuminated only by the occasional flickering overhead light, and the red glare of emergency signs. The only sounds were the steps of Jeff and you, boots walking across concrete, and cautious breathing. 

"What are you humming?" You turned your head slightly. The noise paused.

"You said they were vulnerable to singing, right?" Jeff queried. 

"Irish singing," You clarified, "And even then, I don't think it works like some kind of repulsion tech."

"Irish singing, like, the singer is Irish, or they recorded it in Ireland?"

"Irish singing like the song originated in Ireland."

"So, Auld Lang Syne?" 

"That's Scottish."

Soon, however, you slowed to a stop. The pain was reaching levels beyond the ability to be ignored, and you paused.

"I just need a breather," You assured, but Jeff gave you a dubious look. With carefulness, he set 049 down again, and began to rummage around in his bag.

"Here," He produced a bottle of pain killers from the emergency supply, "Want some?"

You reached out, a begrudging 'thanks' fumbling from your throat, only to stop. 049 stood behind Jeff, ominous in the darkness, only his eyes illuminated, or perhaps illuminating. 

"Wha– hey!" Jeff yelped, suddenly lifted up in the air by 049's hand. Jeff's throat constricted as he tried to throw the SCP's hand off, but it didn't work. Meanwhile, front the floor, you instantly aimed the pistol upwards. But you weren't sure who you were supposed to be shooting.

"I'm sorry, this might sting a bit," 049 apologized, before pressing his other hand to Jeff's arm. Jeff twisted, and you flinched, but then 049 set your partner back down, before sitting beside you.

"Here, allow me," He gently extended the pain killers, dropped from earlier. You kept the gun trained on him.

"What did you just do?!" You demanded. 

"I cured him. Do not be alarmed, he will awaken in a minute or so," 049 soothed. If anything, that only rose more questions in you.

"But– wait, he was infected?" You squawked, lowering the pistol. 

"Yes. I believe that that was how he was able to find you so quickly," 049 informed, before a moment of contemplative silence passed, and he continued, "Or did you think that he was suddenly gifted with an extraordinary ability to find you in moments of trouble?"

"No!" You replied instantly, before stopping and grumbling, "I just didn't think about it too hard."

049 laughed, the same baritone sound from before, and you couldn't find it in yourself to be angry for the teasing. You were getting soft. Instead of saying anything more, least it incriminate you further, you tossed a couple of pills into your mouth, swallowing them and willing them to work fast. It was around that time that Jeff started to awaken. 

"Ugh, my... everything, actually," Jeff groaned, "What 'appened?"

"You prick!" You shouted from a few feet away, snapping to attention at the sound of his familiar voice, "I can't believe you!"

"What did I do?" Jeff whined, "You're gonna hafta be more specific, Sammy."

"Don't you 'Sammy' me," You growled, now sitting beside him. You hauled his upper half off the ground, holding him up, "You asshole, you could've died! What were you thinking, huh? That you'd trick the memory eaters, you cumquat?" You punctuated your statement by bringing him close, and hugging him tightly.

"They told me they'd give me your location," Jeff confessed into your shoulder, "Which, I guess they did, in a way. I didn't even realize they were controlling me."

"They are cunning predators," 049 spoke, weaving his voice in, "I have been hunting them for centuries, but even at their weakest, they managed to outsmart me," He turned to you, "You are...unusual for your tenacity, but not the first. Had they more time, they would have gotten you as well."

"And after they got me, they could work on the rest of the Foundation," You squeezed Jeff harder.

"But they didn't, and we're fine," Jeff hurried to remind you, before your grip became crushing, "Above us is a parking deck, with the other vehicles. We should take the other exit instead and get to the helicopters."

"Why not a car?" You pulled away.

"I may have been leading you into an ambush," Jeff finger-gunned, "By our escape vehicle."

You wanted to sock him for it, but you reminded yourself that it wasn't his doing.

"Helicopters. Okay. I think I can fly one of those," You mused, standing back up off the concrete and extending a hand to Jeff. He accepted, on slightly wobbly legs, and 049 nodded behind you.

"Just like old times," Jeff beamed.

"Shaddup."

The three of you partially ran through the empty parking garage, coming out the other end, into an opening of green and desert and mountain range in the black sky. It was nighttime, but so far from civilization, you could see the Milky Way overhead, brushed over the darkness like the stroke of an artist on canvas, the flecks of tiny stars dotted around. 049 openly stared.

"I have not seen the sky in many years," He whispered. In that instance, with the wind tussling his robes, the way his golden eyes seemed to shine like the very stars he held in awe, you fumbled. You felt a little like a child again, staring at your crush- or maybe you'd eaten a lemon, with the way your face was askew. In a moment of uncertainty, you reached forward slightly, before brushing your hands together. Then, with more hesitation, you grabbed his hand in your own, and lightly squeezed.

"I'd be happy to show you around later. After we're back and safe, I mean," You flustered, cringing almost at the cheesy words and tugging him along. 049 seemed to laugh again. The helicopters were all lined up neatly, and most importantly, unguarded. Thankfully, the Foundation mostly carried a standard model, so your options were limited, forcing you to settle on the simplest one. You took the proper seat in the cockpit, while Jeff and 049 sat in the back, both with varying degrees of wonder.

"Let me initiate the startup procedures, then we can get out of here. Destination: Site-15," You smiled. With some struggle, you managed to begin the process of recalling your piloting memories, enough to slowly start up the helicopter.

"You might want to go faster, Sam," Jeff warned, his voice in a slightly higher octave as nervousness crept in, "Because it looks like they realized why you weren't there for the ambush."

True to his word, a squadron or two of guards began to pour out of the parking deck. They pointed to you, as the rotor blades of the helicopter began to power up

"I'm almost there," You stated, flipping more switches, watching the gauges, "Just a little more..."

"Sam," Jeff's voice was now falsetto entirely, as the guards all rose their weapons. You didn't even bother looking up, as you pulled hard on the throttle, cranked the altitude upwards. The previous steady whine of the blades became a cacophony, as you began to lift off the ground. 

"Distract them or something!" You retorted, fighting against the controls, forcing the helicopter to go forward when it wanted to go back.

"Don't let them get away!" Shouted the guard captain below. Jeff frantically dug around in his bag, pulling out his phone. He recalled, blearily, the words you had told him earlier.

_"They're vulnerable to Irish singing, right?" Jeff asked._

_"Sure as shit yeah," You replied, "Any old song. Especially Auld Lang Syne. That's the most Irish song there is. Hell yeah."_

Jeff may have been remembering it wrong, but that sounded about right. A few quick motions, and the phone was hastily rigged to the speaker system of the outer compound. A single inhale, before Jeff rose the microphone of his phone to his mouth.

"Uh...should old acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind," Jeff's voice crackled over the low quality microphone, echoing through the area. The guns of the entire crowd twitched simultaneously, and it almost seemed like they were about to lower them. That is to say, before the guard captain frowned even more intensely, and pointed decisively at the helicopter. The sound of a hundred safeties being clicked off filled the air.

"Sam-a-lamb," Jeff singsonged, his voice burbling with frantic anxiety. You buried the last shreds of your dignity deep inside your soul, before turning to Jeff to buy the extra time your helicopter needed. 

"Tá siad ocras, tá siad ocras. Tháinig siad as an féar, ghoid siad ár ngrá," Your voice was strong, and carried far. Jeff watched with glee, while the many guards outside hunched over, pained. That meant it was working, at least, so you continued, eyes glued resolutely on the control panel, the little red altitude marker that ticked up, "Tá siad ocras, tá siad ocras."

"Open fire, now!" The guard captain demanded, along with the handful of guards that had managed to power through. You flinched, because you needed just a little more time, but Jeff didn't know the song, and couldn't carry a tune to save his life. Which was actually the case right now. While you were trying to figure out how to force altitude from a craft only a few feet off the ground, an unexpected voice joined you. It was deep and baritone, pleasant to your ears, rumbling with the slightest tinge of accent. The remaining, resilient guards doubled over, unable to resist. And finally, the roaring of rotor blades became too loud, and the helicopter lifted off. You forced the throttle, flying off, Site-14 slowly receding from view. The relief in the aerial vehicle was palpable. When you felt it was safe, you turned slightly. 049 stared back.

"...Thanks," You returned to the controls, "For, that."

The moment felt a little too intimate and heartfelt, so you cleared your throat again, and made to set the aircraft headphones onto your head. Just before you did, you heard the reply.

"And I to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only supposed to be 3 chapters u know


	7. Feel

The flight to Site-15 was...well, it was. Your piloting skills were pretty rusty, but you felt like you had a good excuse, seeing as you hadn't flown anything since you left the Air Force. And even then, you only really flew jets. Helicopters were similar, but in the way that an apple was similar to an orange. Kind of, but not really. 

The general chatter on the radio was good, at least. The closer you got to Site-15, the better your connections became, until you could manage clipped conversations over the headset. 

"Electric Town, this is Agent Kestrel. ETA is five to ten minutes, how copy, over?" Your brief tone didn't carry out of the cockpit, but Jeff still swiveled his head towards you. 

"We read you loud and clear, Kestrel. Be advised, we are reading that you departed from 14. What's the sit-rep of the facilities, over?" A static-ridden voice replied, firm yet not unfriendly. Your lips twisted slightly, and you shifted the altitude down a hair.

"The whole location is FUBAR," You replied bluntly, "Managed to extract high-value asset 049, along with Agent Oriole, before bugging out, over."

"Roger. Land your helo near the Junkyard and prepare for immediate debrief. Electric Town out," The voice cut off. The buzzing was gone from your ears, and you sort of missed it. Enough that you turned around, hands still on the controls. 

"ETA is 2 for Akihabara," You informed. Jeff nodded, but 049 stared in open confusion. 

"You're doing it again, Sam," Jeff stated, inclining his head one. It was your turn to blink.

"Doing what?"

"The lingo," Jeff made some series of hand gestures.

You snorted slightly, "It's not my fault you weren't paying attention during briefings."

"Since when did the Foundation briefings include military terms?" Jeff made a show of crossing his arms. You laughed once, before quickly checking the altitude. Still fine, still on course.

"We'll be at Site-15 in about a minute," You finally rephrased, though your words were mostly intended for 049. This time, he nodded as well, grateful for the translation.

"Are all of these Foundation conversations like this?" 049 inquired, still terribly polite. Jeff fumbled around with his gum packet.

"No, Sam's just petulant," Jeff sniffed.

"I heard that," You shouted.

"Good!" Jeff shouted back.

Rapidly, the base came into view. Site-15. Situated near a power plant, due to the large amount of electronics it contained. Most prominently, 079.

"If it is called Site-15, why refer to it as this 'Akihabara' or Electric Town?" 049 turned his head to look at you. You grunted, not really wanting to explain the silly reasons behind it. Jeff had no such qualms.

"Akihabara is a location in Japan," Jeff explained, popping the gum into his mouth, "It's usually nicknamed Electric Town, due to the large amounts of electric...stuff there," He chewed a few times, smiling, "Site-15 has lots of electronics. It's just the codename, really. Like ours. Kestrel and Oriole."

"Bird codenames? How quaint," 049 seemed to brighten.

You brought the helicopter around, slowly lowering down into the 'Junkyard', aka the aircraft housing area. As you lowered and finally landed the helo, you could see various guards and other people on the platform. The rotor blades hadn't even fully turned off yet when the guard in charge stepped forward. You were halfway out the door of the craft, and glanced at him in an attempt at professionalism. Didn't help much when your laces were caught on the metal. 

"Agent Connell. We received the data you sent earlier," The guard captain shook your offered hand. 

"Agent Whitehill compiled it, if you have any specific questions," You shrugged. The feeling of solid earth under your boots was a welcome one. One of the main reasons you'd left the Force, actually. Got airsick really easy.

"MTF are already en-rout to Site-15. Is SCP-049 with you?" The captain asked. You felt the sudden need to defend your new ally, despite no part of the conversation that you should. 

"He's with us, in the back. Still injured and ill from the time there," You cleared your throat. That was when Jeff appeared beside you, 049 beside him. Their mere presence seemed to strengthen you, and you let out the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. 

"We just have to run a few quick tests, to confirm the information, before you're free to go. The debriefing will follow after," The captain seemed to reassure, "Most information has already been confirmed but the suits just want some more solid data to throw around."

You nodded. Didn't smile, not really, but you relaxed a little. 

"Oh, and Agent Connell, Agent Whitehill?" The guard stopped you three before you could walk into the Site, "It's good to see you back in one piece."

"Feels good to be back," You did smile at that. The admission was an easy one, too. And sure, it wasn't like 079 would be ecstatic to see you back, but, it was the little things that went a long way. With the three of you safe, survived against the odds, your heart flipped around, like a football tackle. Yeah. It felt good to be back, but it felt better to be with your friends, too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for an epilogue after, for fun  
> Military lingo is hard. Also, didn't really know where Site-15 was located specifically so just kinda hand waved


	8. Repeat

"I'm home!" Jeff sang into the house, taking the key out of the lock and putting it back into his pocket, his arms laden with bags. 

"In here," You called from the living room, sprawled across the sofa. You flipped through some documents, before placing them on the coffee table.

"Where's 049?" Jeff asked, struggling to close the door. You stood up to help him with the bags.

"Picking out a movie to watch," You took some of the bags into your arms, bringing them into the kitchen. 

"Oh, can we watch–" Jeff began.

"No," You cut him off.

"You didn't even know what I was gonna suggest," Jeff retorted.

"It was going to be Shrek, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point."

"That's _exactly_ the point."

"You know, you're being awfully pedantic for someone who cried during Shrek 2." 

You threw a water bottle at Jeff, who caught it without blinking.

"Did you find anything while you were looking around?" You asked, putting away some of the bags. Jeff straightened up.

"Oh, yeah. It's the free sample person at Marston's."

You cocked an eyebrow, "Really? Huh."

"I know, right?"

There was the sound of a door being shut a few rooms over, shoes muffled on carpet. You set the rest of the bags down, leaving the rest of the task to Jeff as you walked into the living room.

"Find something good?" You greeted. 049 seemed to smile.

"Yes. This one claims to be about Charles II."

"Oh?" 

"Indeed! When Charles II of Spain died, the autopsy stated that his body “did not contain a single drop of blood” and “his head was full of water. Not to mention,..."

You tried to focus on the words, but you found yourself lost in thought. You examined 049, stared at him. It had been...a while, since the events of Site-14. Long enough for most scars to fade, memories still as crisp as ever. 049 looked healthier, though, as your eyes scanned his form. Happier, too. After he'd been reclassified as Safe, and Site-14 had been cured, they'd realized that the memory eaters were still out there. 049's goal had been to vanquish them, to cure, and it hadn't changed during his imprisonment. That had been when Jeff and you were selected to be his handlers, to give 049 operational discretion, to eliminate the memory eaters. You'd both accepted without hesitation. 049 was still talking now, animated, gesturing back and forth with the DVD case. A warm feeling tickled your chest, and another smile fought onto your face. A rare kind of smile, too. The kind that genuinely crinkled your eyes, brought air out of your lungs, flushed your face. 

"What's wrong?" 049 asked, breaking you out of your thoughts. But in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter. You cleared your throat.

"Nothing. Just thinking." 

And 049 laughed a little, still rich and deep, the kind of thing that made your heart dance awkwardly, and you could hear Jeff clattering about the kitchen, dropping pans onto the ground, and in a few minutes, you'd all be on the sofa, watching a movie that probably wasn't very good but would be made better with company. And after that, it would be night, and you'd all have to go stake out the store, but...

But for now, you were happy, so you ruefully shook your head, "Just thinking."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done. Might have a fun follow-up, with the various missions they go on, might not. 
> 
> List of Easter eggs, in case you missed them:  
>  Oriole and Kestrel are birds  
> Richard Taylor: Richard being the vine, Taylor being the last name of a close friend  
> Dr. Craig Fallow. Craig being the first name of a close friend, (razz)Fallow being the nickname of another  
> Site-15 being Akihabara: felt like the base would have a code name, and because it contains lots of electronic SCPs (079), I went for Akihabara, aka Electric Town  
> Marston's: Small reaccuring character and locational store across a few unrelated reader stories, Marston being the favorite character in a story I wrote


End file.
